"Mm~ so good! Mahiru-san, your cooking is amazing!"
Rita couldn't help smiling happily as she ate, and offered the compliment. Seeing how well Mashiro ate here, she relaxed a little.
"Hehe, it's just home cooking. As long as you like it, Rita-san—I was worried it might not suit your taste."
After all, Rita was British; different eating habits were normal.
"It's exactly my taste!" Rita said, unconsciously picking up her pace.
Before long, they'd finished. As Rita dabbed her rosy lips with a napkin, Mahiru asked:
"Rita-san, coming all the way from the UK—were you planning to draw manga with Mashiro-nee?"
Mashiro turned hopeful eyes to Rita. But Rita smiled and shook her head.
"No. I came to take Mashiro back to the UK."
She turned to Mashiro. "Come with me. The miracles at your fingertips—so many people are waiting for them. Don't keep wasting your talent. It's time to go back."
Mashiro's brows knit. "I'm still drawing manga—I'm not going back! And didn't you support me? Why the sudden change?"
"I never said I supported you. I only looked at your manga. You're the one who insisted on coming to Japan to be a mangaka!"
Rita retorted right away, still wearing a smile. Mashiro wasn't pleased.
"But you booked my ticket. You were supporting me."
"Don't be ridiculous, Mashiro." Rita drew a deep breath, turning serious. "I booked it so you wouldn't get lost, that's all. The mangaka dream needs to end. Please don't waste your talent anymore."
Mashiro stood up and pushed her toward the door.
"Mashiro—what are you doing?"
"I'm not going back. If anyone is, you go back, Rita!"
She shoved Rita out, slid her suitcase to the doorway, and shut the door with a sharp "snap." Back at the table, her face was expressionless, but her cute cheeks were puffed out.
She was angry. She had never imagined her good friend would come here to stop her from becoming a mangaka.
"Um… Mashiro, is that okay?" Hayashi Maki sighed, walked over, and stroked her head. The girl dove into his arms, pressing her cheek to his chest.
"Hayashi Maki, I'm not going back. Rita is the enemy now!"
He kept petting her hair to comfort her. "Not the enemy. Rita probably has her reasons. I believe she will support you. If she doesn't right now, we'll just persuade her."
"If that fails, we'll keep Rita here too—then she can't take you back, can she?"
Mashiro's eyes lit up. Mahiru, on the other hand, rolled her eyes. You might as well say, "I fancy Rita and want to keep her."
She tsked at him inwardly, but didn't really mind. With so many "sisters" already—one more Rita wasn't a problem.
After a while, Mashiro returned to her room to sulk—or rather, to consider Hayashi Maki's proposal. How to make Rita stay so she couldn't take Mashiro back? Make Rita also become Hayashi Maki's fiancée? As she thought, Mashiro's eyes shone brighter.
…
Watching the darkening sky, Hayashi Maki sighed and said to Mahiru, "I'll go see if Rita-san has left. The neighborhood is safe enough, but better safe than sorry."
"Mhm—go ahead. If she hasn't left, bring her back," Mahiru said gently, leaning in to give him a kiss—like a small claim of ownership.
Warmth bloomed in his chest; he ruffled her hair, smiled at her blissful squint, then headed out. Mahiru's cheeks flushed—had she, like Mashiro, just acted like his "pet"? Still, having her head patted felt wonderful…
Downstairs, by the entrance, he found a forlorn figure sitting in a corner, head bowed, suitcase at her side.
"Rita-san—you haven't left?"
She looked up and smiled. "I was waiting for you."
"Waiting for me?" Hayashi Maki arched a brow. Girl, if you smile that sweetly at me, I might get the wrong idea.
"That's right. The moment I saw you I knew—you're the soft-hearted type who wouldn't abandon me… So, would you please carry my suitcase? I'm exhausted and want to rest."
With that, she headed upstairs on her own.
Hayashi Maki was speechless. "Young lady, you may be beautiful, but ordering me around comes with a price!"
"As you wish. I'm taking a bath. Good Person-san, I'm sleeping in your room tonight."
"Uh…"
He blinked, then understood. Rita wanted to see what he was really like—and maybe use closeness to drive a wedge between him and Mashiro, make Mashiro disappointed, and take her back to the UK.
Hayashi Maki didn't mind; he'd already primed Mashiro, and even if she got mad, he could coax her. Since Rita was offering him an opportunity to get close, he wouldn't waste it.
He lugged the suitcase upstairs and opened his room. Rita was already in the bathroom—she must be tired after a long flight. He shook his head, sat at his desk, and began typing.
Soon, soft footsteps approached—and a sweet, girlish scent washed over him.
"You're writing a light novel? I wouldn't have guessed—so you're an author too?"
Rita's voice held a touch of surprise behind him.
"What, do I not look like a writer?"
He rolled his eyes.
"Heehee—you look like a TV idol or something. Not writerly at all," she teased.
"Then you need to get out more and see—what the—why are you naked?"
He turned—and his eyes went wide. Golden waves still damp, white skin gleaming under the light, and a flawless figure that made him reflexively bend at the waist.
…Emmm. Too stimulating.
Rita covered her mouth and giggled at his reaction. She boldly straightened her chest and pulled open his wardrobe.
"My clothes are in the laundry basket. I don't have anything to change into—so I'm borrowing yours."
~~~
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